


Not a First Date

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 09:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Mulder surprises Scully by attending a medical conference where she is a speaker and convinces her to have dinner with him.





	Not a First Date

She’s tiny behind the lectern and the mic is too high so she has to tilt her head upwards to speak. Her hair is shorter than it had been in Bellefleur and she looks a little older. Although not by much. She takes a deep breath in and when she exhales static fills the auditorium. He feels her blush like radiant heat and she finally pulls the microphone down to a better spot.

“Sorry,” she says and there’s a collective murmur around the auditorium. The man next to him brushes something from his knee in jerky impatient swipes and sighs theatrically. Mulder closes his eyes, willing her to take a sip of water and reset. Sighing man stands to leave. Impatient loser, Mulder thinks and gives him the evil eye as he snakes through the rows of chairs, deliberately noisily.

Scully puts her papers down and speaks. “Sorry, to see you go, Professor Tipping. I was hoping you would stick around.” She looks over her glasses at the man, who is now standing to one side. His expression is caught between irritation and pride. Scully continues, “If only to challenge my findings…”

The bubble of laughter wells in his chest and Mulder lets it out, loud and proud. Tipping spins on his heels and leaves. The rest of her presentation is faultless, leads to fierce debate that Mulder has difficulty following, but when he stands, he is convinced that Dr Scully should return to her roots and leave alien-chasing to sad spooks in basement offices.

***

There’s a small crowd around her and she’s nodding and listening and being incredibly polite as men argue over fine points. She rebuts all of them, civilly. He only approaches when the others have dispersed.

“Dr Scully, your courteous performance here can only lead me to believe that some strange substance in the Oregon air caused the level of both your scepticism and your eyebrows to rise.”

“Mulder.” A small chuff escapes her lips, a flush colours her cheeks. “What are you doing here? No more alien craft to hunt down? Exsanguinated animals to investigate?”

“You know, Scully, my life is a little more rounded than you choose to believe.”

“So rounded that you would waste an hour of your life listening to me lecture to a room of over-opinionated medical professionals? Did you not pay your Triple X bill on time this month, Mulder?”

Oof, low blow. He chuckles graciously and watches her blush. She still isn’t certain of where the line lies.

“Professor Tipping missed out big time,” he says. She nods, softening her defensive stance. “You were great up there, Scully.” She doesn’t flinch away from his hand on her shoulder but when a woman walks past, she flicks her gaze at his hold and he pulls his arm back.

“Thank you, Agent Mulder.”

“Can I take you dinner?”

“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon.” She tucks her papers under her arm and gives him the double-eyebrows.

“And I bet you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Her nostrils flare slightly in concession. She smiles at couple walking past. “Was it that obvious?” Her voice is as low as her gaze.

Dipping his head towards hers, but keeping propriety in mind, he says, “Not to anybody else, but there was a vague tremble in your hands, perhaps a slightly elevated voice.” After only one case, he’s already sized her up and got her pegged.

“I sounded like a little girl, didn’t I?” Her pitch rises and he puts his hand on her back, turning her around towards the elevators.

“No, no. You sounded like someone who’s deeply considered, extremely intelligent, willing to share her expertise…”

“But?”

The bell dings and the doors wheeze open. “But…you also sounded like someone who needed to celebrate the small victory of delivering a stellar lecture with a delicious meal in easy-going company.”

She rolls her eyes but gives him a smile. He’s earned it, he thinks.

Leaning against the side of the elevator, she lets out a long sigh. “I suppose I could use something to eat.”

“Well, gee, Scully, don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

“Sorry, I…”

That line is obviously still unclear. “I’m teasing you,” he says. “If you’re not up to it, I’ll understand.”

But she straightens up, rolls her shoulders back, cricks her neck, looks up at him. “Have you ever eaten the half-smokes at Ben’s?”

The photo on the menu shows a fat hotdog split and filled with melted cheese, chili sauce and caramelised onions. He can’t imagine her putting away that much food, but she’s grinning like she’s done it a hundred times. Maybe there’s more to Dana Scully than he’d anticipated. A thrill shoots through him. He loves a challenge.

“Extra spicy,” she says to the waiter, “and a side of chili cheese fries too. What?” The way she looks at him, like she’s been caught with her spoon in the ice cream carton, is so far removed from the woman on the stage an hour before. “I’m hungry.”

“Now she admits she’s hungry,” he says, twisting a tube of salt between his fingers. “How much is it going to cost me to to feed that huge brain of yours.”

“Oh, I’m a cheap date, Mulder.”

Oh. Ohh. She blushes so violently that he almost holds his hands in front of her face to warm them. The food arrives and saves her. Saves them both. This isn’t a date, per se, is it? He shakes the salt over his fries.

“Why did you come here, Mulder?”

He honestly can’t say. Since that case in Oregon, since she bared her body and listened to him bare his soul, he hasn’t been able to shift his thoughts from her. Intriguing, private, guarded yet endearingly honest, Dana Scully is a conundrum and he’s conflicted. She’s a mystery worth pursuing.

“I was just passing by,” he says and takes a bite of his half-smoke so big she can’t ask him anything else for at least five minutes.

***

He walks her to her car. She thanks him again for the meal. All politeness and a wider space between them. He feels her reeling herself back in.

“But maybe next time we should stick to a more professional arrangement. A less social setting.”

He nods. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Her car pulls away.

Later, when he finds the file under the basement office door, he grins to himself. He dials her number. Leaves a message.


End file.
